Broken Bones Or Broken Heart Just Keep Fighting
by KassandraScarlett
Summary: Tony's tired, after the Civil War. All he wants to do is give up and rest. But, he's never been one to get what he wants, is he? (Cross-posted on AO3)


The silence in the tower was loud. (Too many happy memories). The darkness hurt his eyes. (These memories are weirdly bright). Neither of which made sense, but then, maybe that was just because Tony was too drunk (too sad, too hurt, too alone) to think about it.

He sat alone in the common room of the Tower, scotch in hand, FRIDAY muted and temporarily locked out. He knew he should bring her back, should let her call Pepper or Rhodey. He should dump the rest of his drink down the drain and go to bed. He should... He should... He should...

He should fight. (I'm so tired of it).

Everything around him felt like it was mocking him. The burner phone and letter from Steve that lay on the coffee table. (Why couldn't you trust me? Why didn't you believe me? Why did you lie to me?) A single knife decorating the wall, from when Tony had, miraculously, beaten Natasha at pool. (Traitor. Liar. Turncoat. Why didn't you just kill me instead?) A dent on the floor from when Thor had dropped Mjolnir in his hurry to save Bruce from tripping over. (You left. Why did you both leave? Why aren't you here to help me?) And the photo frame on the mantel: Clint plastered to Tony's side, enthusiastically making out with him, as Natasha clicked the picture. (Why? Why **you**, too? You weren't supposed to be there. You were with your sister. **WHY?**)

Tony had spent his while life fighting. Fighting to escape Howard's shadow, fighting to destroy a reputation he hated, fighting to save this vulnerable planet that he hated as much as he loved. He'd fought aliens, terrorists, even his own teammates, all an attempt to keep the world safe. (To make use of my life, to not waste it).

He never thought he'd have to fight Clint too.

In the midst of reminiscence, he missed the tell-tale sounds of an intruder.

"Tony." The voice was tired, hoarse and familiar. (And loved).

"Hey, Clint," he greeted softly. With a sigh, he turned to see the archer standing directly below the air vent he'd obviously used to get in. The man looked worse for the wear; hair matted and dirty, eyes sunken, mouth set firm to avoid any emotion from slipping out. (Fucking spies. All perfect liars, perfect dreams, perfectly fake people). Tony couldn't help poking at that perfect mask. "Here to finish the job?" (Say '**yes**'. Finish it. Put me out of my misery. Everyone's happier that way).

Clint's façade broke. Desperation and guilt marred his features. "I didn't know," he gasped, hands trembling at his side. "I didn't... Steve called, he just told me you were working for Ross. I didn't know you guys were fighting about the Accords." (Don't lie to me, please, not anymore). He took a step forward and Tony flinched instinctively.

"Why are you here?" He asked, too weary and burdened with betrayal to believe anything Clint said.

He swallowed. "Once we escaped, I got the full story. From Steve. I couldn't... I couldn't stay with them then. I... I had to apologize for... I had to apologize to you."

Tony just stared. He wanted to believe him, wanted to sink into his embrace and just stay there, to drag him to their bedroom and hide away from the world. (I don't love you, I don't trust you. I don't love you, I don't trust you. I don't love you, I don't trust you).

"Get some rest," was all he said and he wanted to slap himself because he was still so easy for Clint, so willing to let him past his defences, help him feel safe and protected. Really, Pepper was right: Tony had no sense of self-preservation. (I don't want to fight. Not here, not now, not you).

"Tony, please," Clint begged, tears shining in his eyes. He made to grab Tony as he passed him by, but froze when he flinched again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for, for everything. The Raft, the airport, everything."

"Okay," was all he said. "I'll see you in the morning." (If you're still here). He left before Clint could get another word in.

He'd need to face him tomorrow. He'd need to fight him tomorrow. (When can I give up?)


End file.
